


Through The Magnifying Glass

by itstiredandy



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Comfort/Angst, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Other, Platonic Relationships, Recovery, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-17 20:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19962928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itstiredandy/pseuds/itstiredandy
Summary: Virgil documents parts of his days in high school on sheet of paper. Dealing with depression, anxiety and self worth issues, this is his way of letting it out.





	1. chapter i

**Author's Note:**

> BE MINDFUL OF THE TAGS, PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF ANY OF THESE SUBJECTS ARE A TRIGGER TO YOU, y'all just be safe okay
> 
> Also very many thanks to my beta reader, @larkiaquail on tumblr

~~i see a thousand fingerprints on the surfaces of who i am~~  


Isn’t it easier to feel broken? How much energy does it take to fall apart, and in comparison, how much does it take to get back up? The way down is always effortless. The way back up is more than just a minor hassle. It seems like it could be a fight to the death with only yourself at both sides. But here’s the thing though, it is also much easier to pretend nothing is wrong. Just the thought of having someone I don’t trust to see that I’m… incomplete, scared and tired makes me more terrified than having no one notice it at all.

I need to slow down. Start again from the beginning. I need to tell my story, to anyone or anything, even if that is just some goddamn crumpled up sheets of paper I found inside my now twenty year old drawer.

I’ve struggled to understand who I was since the very concept of personality was introduced to me. I was around… what? Ten? Nine? Too young to worry about it anyways. There were better things I could be doing then.

One of the things that made me struggle so much was school, because I didn’t feel like I was good at anything. Any subject at all, all of them confused and frustrated me. And when you are a kid in high school, everything seems to be determined by how high your grades go. Mine didn’t go very far. I had trouble focusing, trouble being motivated, trouble understanding. When school told me I wasn’t enough, it started to make me think I was barely even a person at all. How could I be?

It wouldn’t have gotten so bad if there weren’t people like Logan Anasiest in my class. And no, I don’t- I don’t hate him at all, this isn’t a jab at him, I’m not salty about him as a person… maybe just a little bit. I mean, I’m salty about him because he is intelligent and it takes him no effort to ace tests and exams and all of that… good… non anxiety inducing stuff…

Logan is my friend. Has been since the middle school. I’d never say it to his face but I love the nerd. 

I ended up comparing myself to him for the whole entire year. Whatever grade I got, I’d see that Logan got a way better one. Whatever topic he wanted to do for a project, I’d try to find a cooler one, often failing at it. He was just always… on a pedestal, and I was falling down the cliff next to it.

Another thing that had me utterly break myself was seeing that I had no talents. Nothing that made people go  _ wow  _ in awe, precisely because I didn’t know how to fucking do anything. Sometimes even taking steps forwards made my head spin, and I would trip on my own fucking feet, and land with my nose on the goddamn ground. And then there was Roman Kastler, who could sing better than anyone I had heard ever live and act as if he had all those different personalities inside himself.

I never talked to him. He probably doesn’t even know I exist, that I go watch most of his plays because there is magic up there. With him and the cast of people who know and love what they do. I haven’t found that -maybe I never will- because here is what I know myself to be: tired, hurt, afraid, anxious and annoying. That it, my entire autobiography, folks. All you need to know about Virgil Parkins is in seven small-to-medium-lengthed words. I know lengthed is not a word, but given I’m me, I also don’t really care.

Here’s what I know Logan Anasiest to be: intelligent, persistent, ambitious, graceful.

Here’s what I know Roman Kastler to be: talented, passionate, hard-working, genuine.

I am none of those things. None of the best and all of the worst.

Isn’t this what my father shouts at me, when I say something he doesn’t think is right, something that differs from his world view and when he stares at my face and wonders what the hell went wrong? Isn’t this what my mother thinks when she stares at me with watery eyes when I tell her that I failed, yet again, another test, another evaluation from school, when I tell her that my grades just keep… keep getting worse? Isn’t this what my friends believe I am when they manage to do everything better and I am left behind?

  1. I am defined by what they say, what they think, what they believe. Because it’s come to be what I say about myself, what I think that I am and what I believe I’ve become.




	2. chapter ii

~~ who i am and who i could be ~~

There are a lot of things I wish I could be. I won’t give you a list- from the last page, you can probably tell what I want to be. I just don’t feel I can achieve any of it. 

I told you about Logan and Roman but I forgot to mention Patton. Well, not exactly forgot, it’s just that his relationship with me is slightly different, just because he is the most supportive and friendly person I know. And if he were to read what you are reading right now… well, he’d tell me a lot of things. 

First, he’d say I am a lot of nice and good things. He’s probably say I’m brave, and a good friend, and patient… maybe kind and understanding? I have a hard time believing any of it. Second, he’d say I can just be anything I want to be. And third, he’d scold me for being so hard on myself, give me a hug and beg me to be a little bit kinder to myself. And I swear I try. There are times I’m nearly there. That’s when I lose all motivation and courage. Anyway, in the end, Patton would look me, eye to eye, and say he’s never giving up on me. That’s the kind of friend he is. 

I’m also constantly comparing myself to him and honestly it’s insufferable. I don’t think I can live like this. There’s one thing he’s right about: trying to be like other people has failed me, more than once. So I stopped, a long time ago. 

The problem is… I don’t know exactly who I am. It’s been… It’s been a while since I felt comfortable enough to just… be. No worries, no anxieties, no insecurities and absolutely no voice in my head that tell me to stop. I’ve lived with those for far too long, and even Logan might not have seen every side of me. But then again, I might’ve not seen every side of him either.

He’d say -Logan, I mean- he’d say that I need to be a better version of myself, as does everyone. So what’s better for me?

Less anxiety, less resting bitch face, less growling, less avoiding eye contact, less hiding myself from everyone, less introvertedness… it’s just always less. It seems like there’s nothing I already have in me that I need to show more of. That’s my opinion, anyhow. 

I could ask Logan and Patton what they think a better version of me could be. Logan would be brutal, I can just see it. Patton would be a lot less to the point and helpful though, so maybe neither option is ideal. 

I think of my own personal list as I walk myself to the school theater. Because, yes, you guessed it, Roman is staring in another play. I don’t even recognize this one, I’m just willing to sit through it to see something good. These tend to be, anyhow. 

I catch a glimpse of his back at the far left side of the stage. He’s reading a script, mumbling - what I assume to be his lines - under his breath. And he… well, he looks nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him nervous… But since I’ve seen him very little in general, I doubt this is a first. 

Me being who I am, (scared of coming in during the middle of the play and having heads turn to look at me me as I move towards a seat), I arrived a bit earlier than the play was actually supposed to start. And by a bit earlier, I mean half an hour earlier. So I sit, watching the empty stage, wondering how the actors do it. I mean, being up there and exposing themselves that widely. The mere thought of it makes a cold sensation wash over me, makes my hands sweat like crazy and my heartbeat speed up. It’s not a nice feeling. 

The play starts when I’m deep in my own thoughts. The first musical number is what pulls me back. Roman isn’t the lead. Not exactly something new, as Roman can’t always get that part, but it seems somewhat uncomfortable to watch when he’s not. I grew accustomed and accommodated. 

The play ends and I’m ready to go when someone calls my name. And I’m confused for several seconds, seeing as none of the theater kids have reason to actually know my name at all. I never bothered to introduce myself, and I don’t think I share any classes with them. 

“Virgil, wait up!” The voice tries again. 

I can recognize it without turning around, and that’s the weirdest part. Because the person talking to me is Roman Kastler. 

“You know my name?” I questioned straight out. 

No heys or hellos or his or waves. I’m terrible at social interaction, I know, no need to tell me. 

“Well, yeah, gloom in the dark!” He smiled at me. “You always sit in the last row, but I’ve seen you here before.”

“That doesn’t explain how you know my name.”

“Doesn’t it?” He grabbed his own chin. “Right you are. You share a class with Logan, Logan Anasiest, no? I know him, specs ‘n all. Says he’s friends with you, described you right down to the patched up hoodie.”

I sighed and dropped my shoulders. “Of course he did.”

“You never stay after the plays.”

“Yes, because when the curtain drops it generally means the show’s over.”

“What an outrageous thought! The show is never over, my friend. We usually set up to talk to the audience, get some glorious feedback, maybe see if they have any questions. It’s nice to keep in touch with your public!”

“If you say so.”

“That means you’re stayin’?”

“How did you get that from what I said?!”

“Come on, please!” He pleaded, bending his knees a little. The scene was honestly disconcerting. “I promise you it’ll be fun.”

“You don’t know my definition of fun.”

“You’re strangely persistent.”

“And so are you!”

Silence fell. I usually like silence, it means the conversation doesn’t have to carry on. That, however, wasn’t the case with Roman. Roman Kastler, aka the boy who’d rather give up one of his passions than let any conversation die, I’d come to learn. 

“Ten minutes. That’s all I’m asking. I’d love to hear your thoughts on all those performances you saw and never commented on.”

“And you expect me to do that in ten minutes?”

“I can extend the trial period if you want.”

“Nope! Nope, no, ten minutes is perfect already.”

“Perfect!” He celebrated before slithering his arm around my neck and leading me backstage. 

There really weren’t too many people there. I had a feeling Roman had to do what he did to me - call and insist - to all those people as well. Maybe one of them was an exception, who knows?

I won’t bore you with the details of the meeting, nothing interesting happened anyway. I gave my piece on the plays I watched and the cast seemed pleased enough. Roman in particular was… elated. That’s my word of the day for you, brought to you by Logan Anasiest, who desperately wants me to expand my vocabulary. 

Going home after this was the same as taking a breather. If I needed to be less introverted, it means that I should learn how to not feel this uncomfortable around people after long periods of time, I think. It just always gets to be too much, you know? It always gets to a point where I just- I don’t find any reason to be there at all. Not when I could be at home, maybe playing Overwatch or watching something on Netflix, or reading a book, maybe even doing some of my goddamn homework - I have way too much of that. 

But I’d like to think -some part of me would, anyway-... that my better self could be a bit like Roman. A bit like Logan and Patton too, just a mixture of the three. I have to imagine that that human being would be perfect, and that’s why I could never be that better version of myself. 


	3. chapter iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leeeeeeave a comment pretty pls

_~~is this what being vulnerable feels like?~~ _

I’ll tell you right here, I don’t tend to get honest with anyone. Maybe a tiny little bit with Patton… but my usual response to being hurt, either emotionally or physically, is an automatic ‘I'm fine’. And I swear I hadn’t noticed I did this until recently. 

And by recently, I mean yesterday. Because after I went to Roman’s play and he basically pushed me onto the little circle of retrospection and feedback last week, I went to another play this week, because I am a bored teenager but theater actually is an interest of mine. Anyhow, Roman managed to make me stay those extra ten minutes again, but while I was leaving, I forgot to look where I was heading. I missed the steps when I reached the edge of the stage and had quite a fall. Nothing too bad, but my elbows, my back, and my butt did hit hard on the floor and hurt like hell. Yet when Roman rushed towards me and asked me if I was okay, I said yes. Even if I had broken a goddamn arm on that fall, I know I just would’ve instinctively said yes. 

Because why should they worry about me?

Anyway, Logan and Patton were also there. Patton wasn’t really buying the statement that I didn’t hurt myself, he might know how to read me a bit too well. He helped me to sit up. The fall made me feel a little sore, so I didn’t move around too much. That’s how I ended up sitting through another twenty minutes of the retrospect and feedback session. I was still there when most of the cast had left. The only people left where me, Roman, Logan and Patton. 

“Are you alright, Virge?” Patton kneeled close to me while Roman and Logan discussed… something. I honestly don’t remember what it was. 

Before I could reply though, Roman felt the urge to interrupt the conversation. “Virge?” Even his eyebrows questioned, what a theatrical person. 

“A nickname.” I mumbled. 

“Yeah, but it makes it sound like you’re the edge of a cliff.”

“So… dangerous. I’m okay with it.”

“Oh… okay. If you say so, Adrenaline Rush.”

“I’m also okay with that.”

He shot me a glare that I couldn’t really decipher. Did he think I was dumb? That I was strange? Maybe awkward? How about all three? Look at that, I win the lottery. 

“So this is where you spend your Friday nights.” Logan stepped closer to us, arms crossed over his chest. 

I had a feeling he was slightly hurt. I tended to… not cancel, exactly, but turn down his invites to anything he wanted to do on Fridays because I wanted to see the plays. Even if it was the same play for a month, which it usually was. 

“I was wondering whether it was just an avoidance tactic.”

“Sorry, Lo.” I shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

Like I said before, I actually like Logan. He’s my friend, I think. I don’t mean to hurt him, I just… I’d rather spend time inside a dark theater watching something I find entertaining from where no one can see me than actually… spend time… with people. It just gets to be too much sometimes, overwhelming, and I have this desperate need to get the hell out. 

“No apologies needed. I do understand.”

He does. Because way too long ago, before I started shutting myself off an actually trusted people a bit more, I explained all of this to Logan. 

“What’s there to understand?” Roman did the thing with the eyebrows again. It was like his whole face screamed **_TELL ME I WANT TO KNOW!_ **

“Nothing.”

“Virge…”

“Come on, Shadow Kid, we’re all among friends.”

“I barely know you.”

“You might know me pretty well. From watching all the plays.”

“I know the characters, not you.”

“An actor’s performance is a reflection of themselves!”

“Whatever.” 

I had not realized Roman could be this annoying. Big mistake on my part, really.

“Roman,” Patton stood up at that point, “don’t push it. Virgil will trust you when he does, alright?”

“If ever.”

“Virge-“

“See, he won’t tell me!”

“For the second time, I don’t freaking know you and I don’t trust you. I swear to everything I can tolerate, I’m going to set fire to your precious stage if you keep pushing.”

“Fine.” He bumped his shoulders up once and crossed his arms. His whole body language towards me just shut off, like he wanted me to stay away. I know because it looks similar to mine. “Have fun watching the plays from your seat, the empty space no one wants to sit in because there’s a petty ghost hanging around there.”

“Why would I want to keep watching the performance from someone as annoying as you?!”

Here’s the thing, I’m pretty sure that ‘petty ghost’ meant me. Even if I’m not a pale ass white boy, he probably meant ghost as in… a chilling and threatening presence people generally didn’t want to get close to. And I, for one, had no problem with that. 

So Roman picked up his backpack and stormed past us, towards the theater’s exist. Logan and I stared at each other with a mutual **_can you believe the theatrics?_ **look while Patton seemed to struggle. It was written on his face: did he stay with us, his friends, and talk with me to comfort me, or go after Roman, someone he just met but still liked, and comfort him? In the end, he chose the first option. 

“Virge… you didn’t need to be that harsh.”

“I disagree.” Logan came to my rescue. “Roman had no right to demand that sort of information from Virgil. It has to do with his own mental health and his personal issues, Roman was never entitled to know.”

“I never said he was, I- I just-“

”To me, that seemed precisely what you said. Patton, I know you are a deeply empathetic person and feel… for Roman in some way, but again, he was never entitled to such information. Virgil wished it to remain private and Roman pushed too far.”

“I know, I do, I just wish Virgil had been a bit nicer that’s all!”

“Yeah, because the person you befriended is a saint.” I huffed. 

“Virge, that’s not what I meant.”

“It never is, Pat, I know. And… you’re both right. He wasn’t entitled to know but… I… I could’ve handled it better, I just-“

 **_I’m an asshole who doesn’t want to share anything with anyone because if people know exactly what I feel, they can use it against me._ ** That’s what I wanted to say. Because it’s exactly why I didn’t.

“I’m fine with you two. Don’t need anyone else.”

That seemed to leave both of them quite speechless. Anyway, Logan drove me home. My mom greeted me with a kiss on the forehead and an awkward (on my part) hug, while my dad sent me a **_hey bud_ ** without ungluing his eyes from the TV. 

So I go to my room and spend the remainder of the night wondering what it would have felt like to share a little bit with Roman. Just say, **_I don’t feel comfortable being around people for too long, I feel like all my energy gets drained after a while and I need to be alone to recharge._ **

Maybe it wasn’t too much to ask for after all?


	4. chapter iv

~~_ show me how to struggle gracefully  _ ~~

At some point, before I started this… it’s not a journal. I’m writing on old papers I found inside my drawer, for some reason. So, before I started this documentation - I guess I’ll call it that - I had asked my mom to go to therapy.

I was scared as fuck to ask, thinking she wouldn’t see why and I wouldn’t be able to explain but she… she did understand. And it surprised me but she looked into it and I have an appointment today. And I will spare you, piece of paper from my drawer, the details of that session because honestly, I didn’t spill all that much. I told him the thing about being introverted and feeling uncomfortable being too vulnerable but that was about it. It felt less… awkward than I thought it would though, I can honestly say that.

Bottom line is I know I’m fucked up, I need help but getting that help scares the hell out of me. Just how much soul searching and emotional repairs do I have to go through before becoming a stable being?

Here’s one thing the doctor told me, though: I have to get comfortable with myself before going all out on depending on other people. 

I’m paraphrasing. 

But I know he’s right and I hate it. Because it means I have to figure out how to make me not feel like a stranger to myself. I’m supposed to be like… my own best friend or something like that, right? But if I’m afraid to approach strangers, how do I make that bond in the first place? I know there are ways, but, like I said, I’m scared. 

Just as I’m scared of going back to the school theater and facing Roman again. I regret every word of what I said to him last week, but I’m also not sure of how to apologize. I feel like if I try, all that comes out of my mouth will be word vomit and shit’ll just become incomprehensible and it’ll have been for nothing anyway. Expressing myself in spoken words has never ever been one of my strong suits.

So, this Friday I left school with Logan. We live in the same neighborhood, and I decided to actually do something with him like he’s been asking me to. I think I might need to stop neglecting my actual friends- they’re the only ones I have.

The walk to his house was kind of nice with the heat from the sun replaced by an evening breeze. Neither of us talked much on the way, me because I had other things on my mind and Logan… because he wasn’t one to strike up random conversations. If he was going to open his mouth to say something, it was because he actually had something to say, or something he wanted to say. The silence didn’t bother me anyhow. It was kind of the opposite, having the company but not the obligation to socialize felt comforting. I was being given a choice, it seemed, and whatever I chose, Logan would be down for it. That was… reassuring.

Inside his place, he lead me to his room. It was probably my first time setting foot in there and it looked pretty much how I imagined it would. The ceiling was painted blue with white and light yellow stars; on the left side he had a study corner where all his school supplies were organized in the drawers of the table and some pencil holders; a normal closet embedded on the wall; a bookshelf filled with all different sorts of genres - though I found a lot of sci fi in there - and a normal looking bed, not much else. The place was only somewhat messy. My room was much worse.

Well, I forgot to mention the TV and the playstation set up on one of the walls, with a small… is that a couch? Like, do I actually get to call that a couch? Cause to me it just seems more like a cushioned bench, you know, lacking the back support and all. Seemed comfortable enough to play video games on. I have no idea how Logan keeps the straight posture. And it seems dumb that I forgot to mention the PS cause it’s the whole reason I came. Well, half the reason; the other half was Logan himself. 

My friend loaded the console and he put on Overwatch for us to play. I didn’t even know about this game at all so me trying to figure it out was fully, if not absurdly frustrating. But I managed to stop myself from snapping Logan’s controller in two just fine.

“It is indeed a hard game to grasp if you’ve never played a first person shooter before.” Logan tried soothing my apparently visible anger. “Do you want to do something else?”

I nodded in silence, turning off the controller the way he showed me to before. Next, Logan turned off the PS and just sat on his bed. I spent a while staring at the sheets before he caught my attention. I missed his hand waving his front of my eyes for a good entire minute.

“Are you alright, Virgil?”

Now this was the moment where I debated inside my head and it felt like it lasted for ages when it only took like two seconds in real life time. I shouldn’t be too dependent on anyone, I’ve been told all my life so I never depended on anyone. But that also screwed me over, didn’t it? So what exactly was the right move there?

“How… How do you deal with things, Logan?” I shot a question.

That was my answer, shooting a question. Seemed to work out alright.

“What things? Please be more precise.”

“I- Dunno, just- things. Emotions, life problems. You know,” I shrugged. “Things.”

Logan’s eyes widened when I answered. “Perhaps, Virgil, you should see a professional, I am not ex-”

“I am.” I said. “I saw a therapist on Sunday. I’m just- curious, is all.”

With a sigh, which I couldn’t really tell if it was relieved or frustrated, Logan took a moment to speak again. “I am really not the best person to ask advice on matters like this.”

“I know, I know, Lo, I jus-”

“Allow me to finish, please.” 

I stopped when he asked.

“In my point of view, Virgil, you won’t find the best person to give you advice on how you should deal with your own feelings. They’re yours- meaning, they are unique to you, and even if they do cross over with someone else’s, what works for them may not work for you and vice versa. It’s very good that you are seeing a therapist, they will help you sort out your thoughts, discern reality from over exaggeration… See them as a filter for your thoughts. They will help you find a path, but you need to get there on your own, is what I mean. You need support, not a step-by-step guide.”

And I’ll tell you, piece of paper from my drawer, that those words stuck to me. Most of what I write here is paraphrasing, since I can’t remember everything word for word but this little speech Logan gave me - I managed to remember every word, in the order he used them. Probably because it just hit exactly home, didn’t miss by a single inch. And more than anything else, it kinda felt like those were the words I needed to hear right then.


	5. chapter v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave a comment!

~~_ I'm only steady on my knees _ ~~

I would like to know who the moron who deemed not leaving your house for even just two days to be something completely unhealthy and devastating and a synonym for a depressed or lazy person was. Because that moron brainwashed every person who ever became a parent to think that their children are lazy for not wanting to go out when they invite them to do something that is, frankly, not at all interesting to them. In the slightest. The other day my mom invited me to go grocery shopping and she gave me the choice to go or to stay at home because she didn’t really need my help so I chose to stay at home. And in response she just scoffed and said a snarky  _ of course  _ and a  _ be more enthusiastic about going out!  _ before leaving my room.

What did she expect?! Nothing about grocery shopping is interesting to me, and I would very much like to avoid running into people from my school there. Our town is not that big, I am guaranteed to see at least two people I know if I step outside my house.

When all my friends are occupied and I want to take a break from my parents who are with me almost twenty four seven, I kinda just want to be alone in my room. But of course, to my mom this means that I’m depressed and lazy. As if those two just go hand in hand together.

The therapist is the only one who gets it. Though, he did warn me about falling into a spiral. I’m trying my best not to. And kinda feels like I’m failing too. So maybe my mom is right, just not for the reasons she thinks.

Where do I go from here?

It’s been another week since I went to Logan’s house, meaning two weeks since I pushed Roman away. He, the theater prince, hasn’t seem to let it go yet. Every time we cross paths in the hallway at school, he just gives me a sideways glance, full of attitude. I’m pretty sure he hates me now. It’s just another thing I destroyed.

I’m not planning to go back to the theater this Friday. Or next one. Or till the end of my school career, to be honest. And that’s gonna bring questions from both my mom and dad because they knew I was at least doing something every Friday night and now I’m not. And I don’t want to answer to those questions. I don’t want or need to fall apart in front of both of them, I really don’t.

But who says I was standing on my feet, in the first place?


	6. chapter vi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls read the leave a comment!

~~_ I feel the pressure in my blood _ ~~

On Tuesday there was a fair at school. Some universities and colleges set up tents on the patio and the students were all allowed to skip one period to browse, talk to the representatives, get an idea of what college life is like. I grabbed as many pamphlets as I could, knowing that if I didn’t, I would make my mom really angry.

But here’s the thing, I’m not entirely sure of what I want to do. And if I’m being honest with… anyone, ever, the thought of going to college terrifies me. School isn’t great and I have to imagine college isn’t that much better, especially with me being undecided about what I want to fucking do with my life.

So I did what I was expected to do, but when my mom asked me to look more into the courses, pick one, and commit, like, go all in… I had to hold in the panic. She sprung this on me during Saturday lunch and the more she spoke, the more I felt like my chest could just burst open and kill everything in sight, me included. It got to a point where I just ran to the bathroom and broke down there. I couldn’t really breathe, I choked on my own tears and I fell to the floor. Conclusion: it wasn’t pretty. And I don’t remember how long exactly I spent like that but something in the back of my mind alerted me to the possibility of my parents finding me like that. If my dad saw it, he’d be concerned until I explained why and then he would laugh and tell me I was a wimp. So nice, isn’t it? And if my mom saw it, there would be a bunch of question I would never be able to answer and it would only make the both of us frustrated at each other. That’s when I forced myself to calm down. I mean, my heart was still pounding and my head ached like it had been hammered over ten times, but I wasn’t crying anymore. That’s the real win.

I’m sure pressure has that affect over everyone.

I talked to Patton on whatsapp after that, just asked if he was feeling okay about college. But I knew the answer. He knew what course he wanted to graduate in, which institute he wanted to go to even. My friend was pretty sure of everything I wasn’t.

He also might’ve noticed I wasn’t feeling that great, too, cause he asked if he could come over. After getting my parent's permission, I told him it was okay and he said he’d be coming in ten minutes. 

Those were some agonizing ten minutes.

Eleven actually. He took eleven minutes. No big deal.

When Patton got here, his first order of business was to get me out of my room and into the backyard. I mean, it still had the outdoors couch for me to lie in so I was good. Meanwhile, Patton actually made me raise my head so he could sit and I’d lie with my head on his lap.

“What’s this.”

“Is this bad?” He questioned me back.

“No. Just random.”

“Then it doesn’t really need an explanation, does it?” He smirked down at me. “You can just relax a bit out here more, right? I mean, it has the breeze, some sunlight-”

“The company-”

“What was that?”

“HM? I just mumbled, didn’t really say anything.”

“Okay then.” Patton began ruffling with my hair, very gently. “Do you have anything to talk about?”

It took me a moment to reply. I had closed my eyes while he played with my hair, it kinda made me sleepy. “No, not really.”

And I will say now, that there was peace right there. Patton didn’t press, didn’t ask questions, didn’t demand any answers, he was just there. And I was once again being given a choice, one that he would accept either way. Maybe my friends knew me a little bit more than I realized. And I needed that, I needed the choice; the calm; the acceptance; the general support.

At some point I noticed I had a lump in my throat because I was holding in tears. I wanted to cry in relief right then. It just felt like I could breathe again, as if I had been drowning in water for years and this was the first breath of fresh air I could get.

At some point I noticed that the damn I built broke and I started crying for real. Sobbing, actually. I curled into a ball in Patton’s lap and my eyes soaked in so much salty water that it seemed like I was about to get drowned for real. But these tears were a weight lifting off my chest while the ones from before formed the fucking weight that was there in the first place. It just decided to come full circle, huh? 

As for Patton, he didn’t even complain about this, he just sucked it up and helped get my crap together before getting back inside with me. And after that day, I would be done with crying for a while.


	7. chapter vii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave a comment!

~~_ i’ll run the risk of being intimate with my brokenness _ ~~

I’m trying to come to terms with it. I’m trying, I swear I’m trying, I am trying! Why is it so goddamn hard to tell myself that it’s okay, that I’m not a monster for pushing someone away when they got too close? Why does it feel like I’ll hurt someone if I do?!

This is ridiculous, completely and overly ridiculous and I’m incapable of doing anything about it. I feel stuck. I’m stuck in this same place that I’ve been in for nearly a year now and I’m breaking. My brain knows this is the stupidest shit ever and I’m beating myself up over something I could easily fix if I wasn’t so hard on myself. I know there’s something wrong, I know I’m bad, but I. DON’T. KNOW. HOW. TO. STOP!

Mom and dad think I’ve become depressed for real now. When I don’t have school I’m sleeping until 2 pm after going to sleep at 4 am, I barely leave my room, haven’t eaten a decent meal in… four days. I’m spiralling. The spiral the therapist warned me about is here, I’ve fallen in it, it’s swallowing me whole. And I’m just letting it.

We have winter break coming in a week and everyone’s excited because that means Christmas. Since I never cared for the holiday in the first place, no one’s really worried about me because of my lack of enthusiasm for it. But this feels worse. I’m dreading the family traditions, the people in the house, the festivities, the… the holidays are busy for everyone, students are included. I don’t want to do anything other than lie in bed and let everything just consume me like the spiral is doing already.

I don’t give a shit anymore.


	8. chapter viii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is short and... trigger warning, virge ain’t very stable in this one

_~~ i can’t keep my head from spinning out of control ~~ _

i cant think today

thoughts are too loud

nothing works

and i just need to be alone

WILL SOMEONE JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE

i’m not okay


	9. chapter viv

~~_ let the scaffolding inside of me be strong enough to hold this tired body up _ ~~

I… I wrote the last note during Christmas day at our house. Our whole family came to celebrate at our house this year, because it just had to be in our house this year, I fucking-

Long story short, I panicked, hid in the bathroom and tried catharting my shit into a piece of paper. It didn’t work and I looked miserable for the rest of the holiday. All my relativies thought I just hadn’t slept well. It was what I told them anyway, so, perfect.

In two days, winter break ends and the stress of school starts again. Did I mention my grades slipped, like on the fastest fucking slippery slope ever ? Yeah, my parents weren’t too happy about that. They’re getting me private tutors, so I have more people telling me I’m falling, hurray again!

I swear I wasn’t this bitter before the spiral. Was I?

I’m just tired. And my therapist is on vacation. I can text or call him if absolutely needed but I haven’t done either once. Maybe I should, soon. Before school starts up again. This has been one of the slightly better days for me, but I don’t trust that this will last for much longer, I never do.

I thought I needed to start with something else, to be honest. Someone else, actually. I called Logan and asked him for a favour, to get Roman to go out with him so I could meet him apologize in person.

Have I forgiven myself yet? Nope. But I’m thinking I can do both at once. 

So I met with both of the boys at the park. Roman seemed pretty surprised to see me approaching, and angry at Logan for the trap I made him set up. Logan wasn’t really having any of it.

“Just let him speak.” He shot when I was close enough. “You need to learn to listen to other people too, Roman.”

“SPECS!” The theater prince yelled after our friend, who at that point was already walking away.

“Thanks, Lo!” I yelled after him before I turned to Roman. “Think you can really listen?”

Roman crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at me. “I don’t know. Can I?”

“Can’t answer that for you, bud.”

“Fine. Just- talk.”

It was there that I became incredibly shy and fidgeting with one of my feet and both of my hands. 

“I- I’m sorry.”

It took me longer to get the rest out. This, to Roman, meant that I was done.

“That’s it ?!”

“Just let me talk!” I shouted. “Goodness gracious… you know what, Roman? I was trying to apologize for pushing you away and for being a little bit of a jerk but you’ve been an even bigger jerk. You pushed me to tell you personal stuff about myself when I had only known you for like a week and then you got pissy when I didn’t, you insulted me for it and now you won’t even let me try and apologize for my part. So I’m done. I’m not trying. I spent… months, beating myself over this but you were wrong. Not me. I don’t regret pushing you away anymore. Just… go fuck yourself, alright. Have a horrible fucking life.”

Don’t judge me, I was pissed. And rightly so, according to Logan. Even Patton eventually agreed that Roman had been an asshole. And this might be the first time I stood up for myself in a really long time, it honestly felt great.

I left the asshole freezing in the park, eyes wide open and jaw dropped. Walking home alone was a relief, because there was a tiny sense of victory there. I had nothing to forgive myself for or apologize to him for. It took me a while to figure it out but I got there anyway. It was one less problem out of the 278243 I had to deal with, and it was a start.


	10. chapter x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave a comment!

~~_ one day I’ll stand on my own two feet _ ~~

Back at school again. Day one was horrible, day two about the same, day three… was taco day so it was a bit more bearable. Now day four was today and it was still horrible. 

Roman hasn’t looked at me since I told him off at the park, not even the dirty looks from before. I think what I said kinda hit home for him. 

Good.

I had Logan and Patton. I had gotten a bit closer to them because of the whole issue with Roman and… how much they were helping me through the spiral. Logan was also helping me study, along with the tutors. That made it a bit less dreadful. He was a bit impatient at times, but still better than my dad, who just started doing things on his own if you didn’t follow his instructions very precisely. 

My grades wouldn’t magically rise again, and there were still days when I would… just… not have the energy to even bother, and that would never go away, not completely. I’m well aware of that. 

I’m just also well aware that I have people on my side this time. I had them before, actually, I just didn’t quite register that.

All in all, I feel like I have at least one foot on the ground again. The balance is not all there, but it’s slightly better than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you 💜


	11. chapter xi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last one!! yay!! this is actually very personal and deep to me. I hope you guys enjoy

~~_ a gift of a thousand fingerprints on the surfaces of who I am _ ~~

The first exams after winter break came and I was picking at my nails and lips, pulling on strands of my hair and kicking the floor with the tip of my toes. Name any other nervous tick and I had it, I promise.

Some of them were chill, especially the subjects I studied with Logan more than I did with the tutors. And the others, were… either just okay or complete disasters. I’ll know in two weeks or so. 

Of course I won’t lose sleep over that for fourteen whole days, nossir.

Aside from school stuff, I got diagnosed with anxiety disorder and mild depressive disorder by a psychiatrist that the therapist recommended me to. The conversation with my parents about that gave me such a bad headache… my mom still thinks depression equals laziness and my dad can’t see what I have to be depressed or anxious about in the first place. So that was nice.

At least they agreed to me using the meds. This bitch is on antidepressants now! They make me very sleepy sometimes, especially taking them at night. I don’t know if they’re working well just yet. The psychiatrist said we’ll have to try and try to find one that sticks and even then, they might stop working and we need to try to find a new one again and so on and so forth, blah blah blah, I don’t need to write everything down.

I remember back on my first note, when I wrote something about being all the negative things that people thought I was. My self-esteem hasn’t magically sky rocketed, I still have a… somewhat low opinion of myself. But I’m also working on that. And damn if Patton’s constant compliments don’t help, even the tiniest bit. And there was also a nice little… incident that happened that also helped.

Roman came to talk to me a little bit before the exams started. He just approached me on day at lunch, and asked to talk in private. He was weirdly shy about it but at that point, my anger had sorta dissolved so I went. Logan and Patton seemed a bit worried when I left the table though, I had to reassure them afterwards.

“Virgil.” The theater prince began, his stance small and weirdly out of character for him. All the flare, dramatics and pose was gone. This was like a stripped down version of actor that I met all those months ago. He was letting himself be vulnerable to talk to me and… apologize. So I decided to listen to everything first and talk second. “I’m sorry, I- I really am so sorry. What you said to me at the park the other day, it was… completely and all around true, I didn’t want to believe it but even my mother said I messed up. You didn’t know me and you really did have no reason to trust me! I was just… I was just being curious and too entitled.” He gave a pause, gulping with eyes closed. “You had every right to yell me at the way you did. Both times, first at the theater and then at the park, I deserved every word of it. And I am really so sorry because I hurt you.”

I waited for a few seconds before replying. “You all done?”

“I-” he gulped again, “yes.”

So I let myself give him a bit of a smile. “You’re forgiven.”

This made his eyes blink some three times. “Wa- really?! You’re not mad anymore?!”

“Nope.” I shrugged. “I never was one to hold onto grudges, and you obviously noticed how bad you fucked up. I’m cool with this.”

“I-” 

I swear, it took him a full minute to process this. I stood there watching and snickering at the sight, it was pretty funny. When he was done, I invited him over to our lunch table. My friend shot him laser eyes when Roman got closer and I wanted to laugh all over again. I expected the aggressiveness from Pat, but definitely not Logan. It was a nice surprise.

“Chill, he just apologized.”

“You did?!” Patton’s expression quickly changed from  **_I’m gonna murder you_ ** to  **_WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!_ ** Honestly felt like I watched a cartoon character.

If two of the people who knew me most in the world were this protective over me, it meant I had something good, didn’t it? I couldn’t be all bad if I had people like them in my life.

There will be days when I’ll wish I’d just die. There will be days I won’t want to leave my bed. There will be days when my self esteem will take a plunge back to the shattered state that it was at before. There will be days when everything will make me want to hide and wait for the day to just be over. But on that day, I felt quite at peace again, for once.

I think that’s as good a place to start as any.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be kind and pls leave a comment!!

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment!


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